


our mrs. morrison

by sweetchems



Category: Comics Industry RPF, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Corsetry, Crossdressing, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Feminization, Multi, Oral Sex, Other, Roleplay, Shameless Smut, Sort Of, Threesome - M/M/Other, kinda sappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:54:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24136939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetchems/pseuds/sweetchems
Summary: "Poor girl…." Gerard agrees in a sweet, sympathetic tone in between kisses he lays to Frank's neck, the tender skin quickly overwhelmed by a smattering of marks. "She wants you to fuck her, honey, she's practically gagging for it…." He purrs, "I can just tell by looking at her how bad she needs you."Frank shudders, a whimper leaving his lips when Gerard's hands trail upwards to trace the curves of his waist, his flat chest, cupping subtly over where his breasts would be, had he any. "Please," He agrees pitifully. "Fuck me."
Relationships: Frank Iero/Grant Morrison/Gerard Way
Comments: 16
Kudos: 41





	our mrs. morrison

**Author's Note:**

> hi this took me like a week and a half to write and it's not a whatever will be update but i'm horny let me live.
> 
> also the title of this is a rly specific reference again. i'm just Living here. and i use grant's surname because they're like. the top of the partner hierarchy in this dynamic which fits with the whole 50s style light roleplay/aesthetic going on
> 
> also also i'm aware poly-ships (is a polygroup the actual word sorry i forget) can't get married in most places but you can pry callin f/g/g in an established relationship husbands/spouses from my cold dead hands. thank u please enjoy! comments are much appreciated ^^
> 
> EDIT: 11/5/20: grant's pronouns in this work have been edited to align with their current pronouns

"Three, two…."

Counting off calmly, Gerard's voice is as sweet as a bell before one sharp _tug_ , and the well-made corset fastened nearly around Frank's waist does in his waist noticeably.

" _Shit_ , d-don't do so much at once, you fuckin'-"

" _Darling._ " Grant's voice cuts through Frank's like a knife. "How many times have we told you tonight to mind your filthy tongue?" 

Their voice is calm but lilting, and shame makes Frank's blood run hot, color no doubt blooming high across his cheeks. "Shit, 'm sorry…" He sighs, tone taking on a note of despair. His voice pitches high suddenly in a pathetic little squeak when Gerard decides to take in his waist some _more_ , the corset's stiff boning no doubt giving him curves befitting of his role for the night.

"Clearly not sorry enough," Grant almost taunts back. "Poor girl… we have so much to teach her, don't we Gerard, love?" They talk like Frank isn't even _there_ , and the _way_ that's debasing and filthy, God…. Frank can't even begin to describe it.

Gerard gives a noncommittal nod, no doubt wearing that stupid self satisfied smirk on his face, the same one Grant's wearing. Matches perfectly with their stupid near identical suits, Gerard's shed of its blazer, button-down sleeves rolled up to his elbows as he takes on the task of lacing Frank into his godforsaken corset. 

And outfitting him in general. So far tonight, Frank's been fitted into panties, a slip made of this thin, sheer material, stockings- and the suspenders that go with them- and now a damn corset. The thing wouldn't be _so_ weird if it didn't affect his posture so much. The tighter Gerard laces it, the harder it is to slouch, which just feels… odd.

"You're gonna be _so_ pretty when we're all done with you, Frankie…" Gerard purrs, winning a shiver when he leans in close, pushing into Frank's personal space in a way only he and Grant can get away with. 

And then suddenly, Gerard is tying his corset laces after one more sharp tug. It's not terribly uncomfortable. Having his posture adjusted is certainly weird, but really, he's been more uncomfortable in his life.

"You're still slouching, darling." _Fuck._ It's like Grant can read his fucking mind. "Gerard, pet, would you be a dear and tighten our girl's laces a bit more?" 

Frank's eyes widen. "Oh, you miserable _fucker_ … I'm not even slouching!" He argues pitifully.

"Yes, darling," Gerard talks like he isn't even there again, the winning smile in his voice obviously directed to Grant. He undoes the laces where they're tied in their perfect little bow, and Frank whimpers when he tightens them once more.

"F- _fuck_ …." He curses helplessly, and just for that, Gerard seems to tighten them again.

"Is this okay?" Gerard asks with an upbeat smile.

"S'tight…." Frank whines. He knows it'll get better after a moment, but right now… _shit_.

"It's perfect, love," Grant talks over him, and of course, they're who Gerard listens to, tying the laces in their second neat little bow of the day. "See, darling? Hasn't this done wonders for your posture?" They praise, and Frank looks at them in surprise. They're not usually one to directly speak to Frank during scenes, tends to go through Gerard like the younger is a proxy. 

Of course though, Gerard cuts in. Damn chatterbox, always has to get a word in when Grant's involved. "Her figure too, look at those curves…." He purrs, fingers trailing down the now prominent curves of Frank's waist as it shrinks down, only to flare into full hips where the corset ends. 

"I'm not a girl… don't have fuckin'... don't have a _figure._ " Frank knows he's being ridiculous, protesting his very visible femininity for the sake of playing a character, but the way it makes Gerard's grip on his hips tighten makes it worth it.

Gerard begins to contradict him, but his voice leaves him when Grant speaks instead. "Poor little thing…. You're certainly not much of a man though, are you?" Their lips draw up at one corner in a lazy smirk that makes heat coil like a tightly wound spring in Frank's stomach.

"Yes I am, you-"

"Bite your tongue, darling, before you say something that gets you in trouble," Grant interrupts him with a calm smile. "Gerard, love, why don't you see about getting our girl into the rest of her things?"

"Yes dear!" Gerard chirps with an eager nod. He turns his attention to a pile of clothes strewn across the bed. Frank cranes his neck awkwardly to try and see what he's grabbing without turning around, but the soft rustling of fabric gives it away for him. "Sweetheart, can you put your arms up for me?" He coos, and Frank obeys blindly, feeling the soft yet stiff material of a petticoat pass over his head and arms, slipping down to settle at his waist in a fluffy mass of fabric that feels kind of like it's trying to pretend any leg above Frank's knees doesn't exist. "There's a good girl…" Gerard murmurs, adjusting the underskirt just so. It's white, detailed with satiny blush pink ribbon, the nylon brushing against his stocking-clad thighs with a crisp, soft _swish_ of a sound.

"M'not a _girl,_ " Frank whines, his words muffled as the next layer of the outfit passes over his head. The main attraction, a heavy, dark red dress with a full skirt and short sleeves, is tugged on over his layers of undergarments, and it feels, honestly, like wearing a large fabric cupcake. Gerard wrestles his arms through each sleeve- like he can't dress himself-, zips the dress up the back, and oh _God_ it's tight. He doesn't _mind_ per se, but it definitely wouldn't fit him if he wasn't wearing a corset.

"I'm sorry, sweetie, what was that? You need to speak up," Gerard teases, playing with the hem of Frank's skirt, adjusting the folds and pleats so it lays just right against the petticoat underneath it.

Frank shakes his head with a small but obstinate " _no_ ", and that brings Grant into the conversation again.

"Frankie, darling, listen to Gerard. Speak up so he can hear you," Grant orders calmly.

God, their levelheaded commands give Frank chills every time, and a pull to obey always forms in the pit of his stomach. "Said 'm not a girl," He murmurs, barely raising his voice.

A tittering laugh from Gerard's lips sounds out through the room, deepening the red blooming across Frank's cheeks. "Oh, _sweetheart_ , that's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard you say," He teases, fingers trailing over the curves of Frank's body and winning a soft, eager sound for his troubles. "Of course you're not a girl, you're _our_ girl," Gerard purrs, grip suddenly firm as he sits Frank down on the bed, his skirts rustling as he moves. "Isn't she, honey?" He casts a glance over his shoulder to Grant as he makes his way effortlessly over to the dresser, gathering a few things in his arms and setting them down.

"She is, our beautiful little lass…." Grant's low, murmured agreement makes Frank squirm, face _burning_. "Though, I must admit, you've done more of the work on her than I, pet."

A proud smile crosses Gerard's lips as he plugs a heavy-looking curling iron into the nearest socket. Setting it somewhere it won't catch the bed on fire, he turns his attention to Frank's nails.

"Oh, sugar, these won't do," He tuts softly at Frank's plain but well maintained nails, wiped clean specifically for this scene. Before Frank can even open his mouth to make even half a false protest at his emasculation, say that his husband's nails are twice as bad as his, scraggly and bitten and rough, Gerard has a pink bottle of nail polish in hands, and he's positioning Frank's right hand just so, allowing him to paint each nail easily. 

Frank always wonders how having his nails painted changes the look of his hands so much. He has rather small hands, but not in a way that's any sort of dainty. They're just short, spattered with tattoos, decidedly masculine, but as Gerard paints each nail, something about them softens, he feels gentler, _tamed_. Because as much as he pretends to resist, he wants to be softened. The way Gerard and Grant call him their girl makes tenderness bloom in his mind, patching over the dark rough patches of stress.

And then, he looks down, and his nails are blush pink, and a whimper falls from his lips, eager but embarrassed all at once.

"Darling, you know what I haven't heard even once tonight?" Grant's voice breaks his thoughts, and he snaps his head up to make eye contact, wide eyed stare taken as a curious _what?_ "I haven't heard you thank Gerard, and he's done so much for you, love."

Heat overwhelms Frank's skin, and he stares down at his painted nails, drying in his lap, hands rested palms down on top of his skirt. "I, um… thank you…." He murmurs, casting his gaze in Gerard's direction. 

Gerard is smiling softly, almost maternal, hands working skilfully as he curls a section of Frank's hair with the now warmed curling iron, then pins the section to his head to set. Rinse and repeat, until Frank's head feels almost heavy with the warmth against it and the weight of the clipped-up curls.

There's a soft _thud_ when Gerard sets down the curling iron on the nightstand. "What should I do for her makeup?" He asks Grant, a mischievous smile that Frank can't see forming on his lips.

"She always looks stunning in red, pet," Grant responds, and Frank's spine tingles at the way they treat him like he isn't even there, his choices aren't his. He wonders if Gerard is thinking _is this sort of thing offensive?_ , or if he's just thinking about the immediate moment. The tube of scarlet lipstick that's brought to his lips makes him assume the latter, which he figures is fair. 

He doesn't move, doesn't even twitch when Gerard coats his lips in bright red cosmetic, just behaves, stays put. His behavior earns him a sweetly purred " _good girl_ " from both his spouses, Grant's low burr and Gerard's higher tones mixing perfectly into a hybrid of everything Frank _adores_ about both of their voices, making him weak at the knees.

Frank knows he can be a ball of energy compared to both his older lovers- Gerard is a tiny bit more than four years his senior, but he loves to act as if he's a tired old man when he's just over thirty, and Grant is more just cool-headed and wise than they are easily tired-, but he stays very, perfectly still for Gerard to line his eyes with a freshly sharpened black liner pencil. It's like how he'd do his makeup if he were going to a show, aside from the tiny, modest wing at the outer corner of each of his eyes.

When Gerard brings mascara to his lashes, he manages not to blink and ruin it, and when blush is dusted on his cheeks, his nose twitches from the excess powder.

"I think that's just about perfect, hm?" Gerard murmurs, his voice faint and focused as he dusts a hint of peachy pink eyeshadow over the outer corners of Frank's eyelids. 

Craning his neck to look in the tiny compact mirror in the lid of the palette in Gerard's hand, Frank whines petulantly when he snaps the compact shut, upset he doesn't get to see his reflection. "Let me see, don't be an ass…!" He complains, reaching for the compact.

"Now, _love_." Grant's voice is sudden and firm, an air of threat laced into their words that makes Frank look up, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. "You'll spoil the surprise if you look now, and even if that weren't the case, that's certainly no way to behave," They scold, and schoolboy shame bubbles up in Frank's chest, hot and humiliating.

Stammering out an apology, Frank finds his cheeks burning yet again, arousal coiling tight in the depths of his stomach. He feels like his mind is melting at the soft, tactile feeling of Gerard's hands suddenly working with his hair, unclipping big, loose curls and separating them with his fingers. He parts Frank's hair a little more to the side than normal, brushes out his curls into softer waves. The hair spray he uses to seal it all in smells like flowers, and makes Frank scrunch up his nose and cough, even though he uses hardly any.

"Can you get her shoes, please? The red ones," Gerard calls over his shoulder to Grant, busying himself with fastening a subtle pearl necklace around Frank's throat. Frank's whole body tingles at how they so easily address him as a girl, and he glances over at the bedroom mirror, its form currently covered with a sheet, since apparently Gerard prefers to do big dramatic reveals. Fucker fancies himself a TV character.

Honestly, Frank's brain kind of melts when suddenly he's got Gee and Grant in his space. God, they both look so _good_ in their stupid suits. Grant kneels down, a pair of freshly bought- only worn twice, once to test the fit, and once for the one other scene they've done like this-, shiny red heels in their hands. 

As they slip one shoe onto each of Frank's nylon-clad feet, Gerard giggles. "Awh," He coos, "You're like our little Cinderella, Frankie!"

If Frank thinks he was blushing before, this is a whole new _category_. "Shut up…." He murmurs, cheeks blazing.

"Darling, you need to behave if you want to actually _see_ what you look like," Grant scolds lightly, and Frank mumbles an apology. "Good girl, come on, let's see you then, up, up."

Frank's legs are wobbly when he stands up- with help, of course, it's hard as hell to move like he wants to in a corset-, he knows he's turned on and he's just glad for so many layers of clothing to hide it. 

Gerard walks eagerly over and tugs the sheet off the mirror, his ever present love for the dramatic coming out for a moment. Frank waits for him to carelessly toss the sheet aside before looking in the mirror, and…

_Oh, wow._

He meets his reflection's eyes and finds a wide eyed girl in a dark red dress, her face flushed crimson. She smoothes out her skirt, and then reaches up to run her fingers through her hair, and Frank is really, _really_ not processing that she's _him._

"Look at you, so fuckin' pretty…." Gerard purrs in his ear suddenly, and Frank gasps at the heat of his breath against his skin. "Such a pretty wife, aren't we lucky?"

The both of them crowding Frank's personal space in just the right way, Gerard and Grant hold him between them, and even though he's near Gerard's height when he's in heels, he feels small. Or maybe he just feels like submitting, he wants to be _easy._

"We are, love… incredibly lucky to have such a pretty little girl be all ours…." Grant says back, shifting just so, allowing Frank to nestle perfectly into their broad, warm chest.

"G...Grant, please… _mh…._ " Frank starts, words being lost in a whine when he feels Gerard's lips on his skin, brushing over his exposed neck, laying gentle kisses that make his skin burn like it's crying out for more.

His voice breaks on a high, feeble sound when Gerard's teeth sink into his throat, sucking a hickey where he bites down. "Oh, _God,_ Gee… please…." Frank moans out, pressing his face into Grant's chest, fingers digging into their dark blazer for something to ground him.

"Such a lucky little thing she is too, gets to have two spouses to please her… just what such a perfect little girl deserves in her life…." Grant purrs, hands shifting as they speak. One pushes up Frank's skirt just enough for the other to slip under the long garment. Strong, deft fingers trail over stocking clad thighs before finally brushing between Frank's legs, pausing to massage the bulge they of course find in the younger's silk and lace panties. Frank quivers under their touch, head spinning for a moment. "Oh, _love…._ You poor girl, just dripping wet, aren't you? Your poor little clit is so sensitive too, isn't it darling…?" Grant's low, lilting voice makes Frank's knees buckle, and he tightens his grip on the lapels of their jacket.

"Poor girl…." Gerard agrees in a sweet, sympathetic tone in between kisses he lays to Frank's neck, the tender skin quickly overwhelmed by a smattering of marks. "She wants you to fuck her, honey, she's practically _gagging_ for it…." He purrs, "I can just tell by looking at her how bad she needs you."

Frank shudders, a whimper leaving his lips when Gerard's hands trail upwards to trace the curves of his waist, his flat chest, cupping subtly over where his breasts would be, had he any. " _Please_ ," He agrees pitifully. " _Fuck me_."

Grant's hand on his cock through his underwear feels so fucking _good_ though. Maybe he could be patient a while longer. "Hush, pet, let me find my way around you, first…." Grant soothes his pleading, and he feels himself actually go all slack for a moment, surrendering to the will of his lovers. Oh _fuck,_ look at him, sounding like he looks. Giving in is appealing though, and he lets himself melt. 

It doesn't last though. Frank is not a patient man when he wants to be, and he can't quite say he wants to be right this minute. By the time he's ready to start genuinely crying for both his partners in order to get his way- hey, he's not above it when they're _torturing_ him-, Frank is finally given what he wants. Leading him back towards the bed, they let him fall back and melt into the softness of the duvet for a moment, his skirt shifting with the rustle of synthetic cloth when he hits the mattress.

Gerard slips into the lead, leaning into Grant to press a smitten kiss to their lips before turning his full attention to Frank. He sinks to his knees like a penitent sinner, taking his sweet time to tug off Frank's high heels. His slender, graceful fingers- adorned with wedding band and chipping nail polish, flecks of bright red paint- curl around the back of Frank's ankle, and he presses a worshipping kiss to the top of his foot. The gesture makes Frank squirm in its intimacy, and the way he trails kisses up his leg to follow it up has him _melting._

By the time Gerard is between his legs and has his skirts pushed up, Frank is downright dizzy, his cock aching in his panties, straining against the front and tenting the silk. His head spins, and he doesn't come back down until he feels a solid presence, warm lips on his, grounding him.

"Th- _thank you,_ " He stutters breathlessly to Grant when the elder draws back from his lips, their hand trailing up to trace the forms of his cheek without them telling it to.

He barely has time to turn his attention _back_ to Gerard before he hears Grant scolding him. "Love, I know you have fun treating our girl like a princess, but she's going to be a right mess if you can't take care of her like she needs," Grant is lecturing, and their tone makes Frank whimper hazily, but then Gerard is tugging his panties down and taking the head of his cock into his mouth and _oh fuck that feels so good._

"A- _ah,_ Gee, fuck…." Frank moans, grasping at the sheets under his hands helplessly. "More, more, shit, _please_ …."

Moving off of Frank, Gerard glances up through his lashes, eyes coy as he pushes two, three fingers into his mouth instead. "O- _oh_ , please, d-don't, need your…." Frank's voice wavers, high and frail already from arousal. His words melt away in seconds as he watches Gerard work his fingers into his open mouth, probably practically gagging on them, he's taking them so deep, working his tongue over them slowly. Frank whimpers, longing to wrap his lips around the sounds he needs to _beg._

Just as he's nearly worked himself up to the point of begging outright, Gerard draws out his fingers, a thin trail of saliva connecting them loosely. Frank watches him, lips parted in awe, stuttering wordlessly and suddenly when there's a slick finger pressing at his entrance, filling him slowly.

"Oh- _fuck,_ Gee…." Frank moans hoarsely, body going stiff against the bedsheets. His form melts when Gerard's hot, _perfect_ mouth sinks down onto his cock, tongue pressing against the underside just so. A second finger soon joins the first inside Frank, and his shoulders shake with pleasure, electric sparks of lust dancing up his spine. "God, _please…_ more…." He whimpers plaintively, fingers twisting in the sheets until one of Grant's strong hands finds them, fingers tracing over the back of Frank's hand, the tense tendons visible and easy to outline.

Grant's presence soothes him even in his desperate state, and even though he _badly_ needs them to fuck him. "There's a girl, darling, doing so well… such a pretty thing, I'm going to enjoy taking you apart…." Voice low and calming as can be, Grant's words still send shivers down Frank's spine, his hips bucking up helplessly.

"Fuck me, Gerard, _hurry up…._ Quit taking your sweet fuckin' time, it's _mean…!"_ Frank complains. Gerard's deft fingers suddenly brush his prostate, and God, that _still_ feels like being shocked. His lips part on a moan, and he tosses his head back, his whole body melting into the mattress. He feels Gerard _smirk_ around his cock, and knows he should've kept his mouth shut.

One of Grant's strong, warm hands finds its way to Frank's curled hair, working through the messy waves as they murmur soft, pleasant words. God, they don't even lecture Frank, they're too fucking good. The mix of touches he's getting has him fucking _floating,_ trying to press into all off Gerard and Grant's touch at once even though he knows he can't.

"Fuck, _fuck,_ Gee, m'close, 'm gonna-" Frank's babbling is cut off when Gerard suddenly pulls off him. A frustrated " _oh_!" leaves his lips as he's suddenly left untouched and empty, his cock twitching and his hole clenching in a plea to get back what's been taken from him. His eyes flutter shut for a brief moment, he worries his bottom lip between his teeth, and _oh,_ suddenly nobody's touching him and he doesn't know why but it's _ruining_ him.

"Hush, pet, you're alright," Grant's voice cuts through his internal begging, soft but steady, and he doesn't even realize he was verbalizing anything, but sure enough, his lips are curled around soft whimpering pleas he didn't know he was making. "There's a good girl, spread your legs for me just a little more," They urge, and Frank obeys, melting into the way Grant traces idle circles on his thigh with the pad of their thumb.

Eyes half open, Frank lets himself take a soft kiss from Gerard, blearily realizing in his ruined haze that his lovers must've switched places. He spreads his legs a little wider, feeling his skirt shift under him.

"That's it, darling, _perfect…."_ Grant praises, undoing the top button and fly of their dress pants, tugging them down with their underwear. The sound of the shift of fabric fills Frank's ears, louder than it really was. Strong hands are on his thighs, and he turns to jelly, his mind floating and only grounded again when he feels the tip of Grant's cock pressing against his hole, pressing in slowly, stretching him like he'll break if he's taken too fast or too rough.

"Fuck, fuck, _Grant,_ please," Frank moans, and he's trying to arch into them but he _can't._ "M- _more,_ fuck…."

He knows Grant is just trying to be gentle with him, but he just needs to be fucked, and the way Gerard is nibbling at his skin, leaving marks around marks and murmuring what a good girl he is _isn't helping._ He spreads his legs wider to show how good he is, how much he _wants_ this.

"Good girl, like that, perfect…." Gerard and Grant both praise him at once. He's flushed down to his chest by now, he's positive of it, and he shudders from their praise, lips parting on a moan as he slowly takes the rest of Grant's cock.

"Fuck, you're _big…."_ Frank moans, and he knows it sounds cliche, but he feels stretched and full, even more so with everything cinched by the corset, keeping him in place and unable to move like he wants to. "C'mon, baby, fuck me, _please."_

His soft pleas are silenced suddenly by Gerard's lips covering his, and he kisses back desperately, bringing a hand up to fist in Gerard's hair and pull him closer, kiss him harder.

He pulls back only to gasp for air and to moan when the slow, gentle pace Grant has set for fucking him brushes his prostate. His toes curl in his stockings, and he chokes out a whimpered attempt at a plea that doesn't end up having any real words to it. 

"Good girl, breathe, sweetheart, breathe for us," Grant urges when Frank is too jumbled to speak, even his breaths coming out messy. Frank sinks back into the sheets, trying to stay calm and breathe even though he wants to just _melt_. "Just keep your pretty little head calm, darling, there's a doll…."

Frank feels like he's goddamn _floating,_ head so empty aside from a blurry one track loop of _more._ "Mhm… yes, darling…." He murmurs, lips curling into a small smile. He's barely aware of what's going on, but he moans so pretty when his prostate is struck several times in rhythmic but easy succession. "M'close, ah, _fuck…!"_ He curses, and God is that an understatement. He's never been more eager to come in his life, with Grant fucking him deep and just right to put him at his tipping point, and Gerard littering kisses and marks all over his skin, every part of his neck and chest that's uncovered spattered with marks.

"C'mon, honey, you can come, be a good girl and let go for me," Gerard chimes in, hand slipping down to curl around Frank's cock and jerk him off. He's not especially fast or rough, but the way he twists his hand and works his thumb over the head of his dick has Frank coming in record time, spilling over his hand in a messy little orgasm that leaves him moaning and strung out, oversensitive to the point of near tears.

"Fuck, _fuck,_ Grant, _harder,"_ Frank gasps, a sharp, demanding note to his voice, even with the tears in his eyes and the shake to his words. 

When Grant comes inside him, he swears he sees stars, but maybe he's just too oversensitive to process things right. Grant's low curse as they come makes Frank's spent cock give one tired twitch, but he's too _out_ to even consider getting hard. 

It's only when Grant pulls out and settles on the bed beside him to breathe that Frank realizes Gerard is the only one of them that hasn't come. "G- _Gee,_ can I help you come, please, I wanna…" He starts, but Gerard just snuggles into his side with a smile.

"That can wait, sweetheart, you need to rest…." He purrs, locking fingers with Frank and pressing a kiss to his forehead.

"You did so good, love, I'm so proud of you…." Grant praises, and Frank just leans into them and Gerard.

 _Fuck,_ he's lucky.

**Author's Note:**

> check me out on tumblr i'm @/ourangeloftrash and i like frank in dresses. or gerard in dresses. and i just like grant in general. i'm like wal-mart rylescoe.


End file.
